


The Nth Time, or The First Time

by kiwoa (Rinoa)



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-17
Updated: 2013-05-17
Packaged: 2017-12-12 02:20:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,497
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/806034
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rinoa/pseuds/kiwoa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This isn't the first time they've done this together, except in all the ways it kind of is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Nth Time, or The First Time

**Author's Note:**

  * For [toomanyhometowns](https://archiveofourown.org/users/toomanyhometowns/gifts).



> Written for a kissing meme on tumblr, prompted by [staygold-kanerboy](http://staygold-kanerboy.tumblr.com):
> 
> oooh, can I prompt? I request shoulder blade kisses in some way involving jtoews <3
> 
> This got much longer and much pornier than anticipated. Enjoy!

Kaner's on his knees, pulling the waistband of Jonny's boxer-briefs taut with his teeth, when he realizes that this is the first time they've done this. Well, not the first time he's done _this_ , swept his tongue along the cut of Jonny's abs and watched Jonny shakily press the heels of his hands into his eyes, but it's the first time they've done this just to do it. He's sober, and Jonny's sober, and they have a day off, so there's no raw loss to forget, no win to celebrate. He didn't even know this was going to happen. It was a possibility, yeah, but most of the time, hanging out doesn't lead to _making_ out. Making out or. Or.

Kaner nuzzles his nose into the crease of Jonny's hip, breathes in the mixed scents of Downy and sweat, and Jonny groans, "Fuck, Kaner. We doing this?"

"What the fuck does that even mean?" Kaner snips, but he doesn't give Jonny a chance to answer, just lays his hands flat over Jonny's hipbones and drags down, rolling elastic and cotton up under his palms. He waits, watches the tip of Jonny's cock slip free, and Kaner lunges forward with his mouth open. Jonny hisses - Kaner knows that noise. Jonny's eager and easy for a blowjob, fast and hard, no foreplay necessary. Kaner suppresses a smirk and stops, tongue flat, wet, completely unmoving, pressed firm under the head. He breathes quickly.

"Kaner," Jonny says, and is he bringing out the Captain voice now? Really? Kaner presses a little closer, a little harder, but still doesn't move. "Kaner," Jonny tries again. This time, he sounds needy, unsteady.

Kaner shimmies Jonny's underwear all the way down, tilts his head forward, takes in as much of Jonny as he can without gagging, and sucks.

The change in atmosphere is immediate. Jonny sinks one hand deep into Kaner's curls, clamps the other down on Kaner's shoulder, and closes both tight. His thighs are solid under Kaner's hands still, but now there are tremors rippling through them. Kaner can't help it - he slides his tongue, firm and wide, along the underside of Jonny's cock, drawing out the rough shape of letters, and fights back a smirk when Jonny's voice cracks high.

"Pat," he moans, and that's it - Kaner's moaning too, working his tongue sloppily for a few beats before he draws back to slow, methodical motions. He knows if he pushes it right now, just goes quick and loose, Jonny'll be jerking, spilling deep in his mouth in minutes. That's not what he's going for right now.

Kaner lets one hand slip to the inside of Jonny's leg, then to the soft skin at the top of his ballsack, then to the crease where thigh meets cheek. He lays his middle finger along the cleft of Jonny's ass. In unison, he presses his thumb on the soft span behind Jonny's balls and his finger into the crack just a little, callouses catching sweat-dappled skin, and lifts his mouth off to call Jonny's name. Jonny doesn't answer, so Kaner presses harder and repeats, "Jonny."

Jonny blinks down at him and grunts. Good enough.

"Can I fuck you?"

Jonny keeps blinking.

Kaner lifts his hand away enough to flick the inside of Jonny's thigh. "Hey, Earth to Captain Stupid! Do you want my dick in your ass?"

And there he is, the Jonny Kaner knows and maybe likes a little bit, frowning at him and saying, "Since when do you ask permission?"

"Uh," Kaner says, "since the last time I tried to finger you the day before a game you just about ripped my hand off?"

Jonny's frown deepens. "Okay?"

"And we have a game tomorrow?"

Jonny's mouth goes slack, and oh man. _No way_.

"Jonny," Kaner says slowly, rolling the 'o' out long on his tongue, "did you forget?"

"Of course not," Jonny bites out, but he's getting splotchy across his forehead and cheeks, and Kaner has never been more proud of his blowjob skills.

"I made you forget about hockey."

"You did not."

"I did. I rocked your world so hard I made you forget about hockey." Kaner smiles slow and proud. "Awesome."

Jonny drops his head forward, eyes twisted closed like Kaner's words are physically painful (and knowing Jonny, they probably are), and mumbles, "If I stop arguing, will you shut up and get back to it?"

"If by 'get back to it', you mean 'get my fingers inside you and make you scream'..." Kaner waggles his eyebrows as fast as he can manage. "Then hell yes."

Kaner surges up to his feet and counters the head rush by sinking all his focus and then his teeth into the raw center of Jonny's lower lip. It used to take Jonny a moment to recover from moves like that, but now he meets Kaner's every move, chases bites with tongue, holds him firm with one hand splayed on the small of his back and the other pulling steadily on his hair. Normally, Kaner would let Jonny guide him wherever the fuck he wants him. Tonight, though, he knows where _he_ wants to put _Jonny_ , so he takes advantage of their height difference by easily grabbing two handfuls of Jonny's ridiculous ass and squeezing.

"Kaner," Jonny pants against his ear, "stop teasing."

"It's not teasing if I put out, you loser," Kaner says, but he gives Jonny's ass one last fond pat and breaks away to retrieve the lube. He's barely reached the bedside table, hasn't even opened the drawer yet, when Jonny insinuates himself along the curve of his back, the warmth of skin on skin blunted only by the cotton of Kaner's boxers.

"Why are you still wearing these?" Jonny says, slipping his fingers under the waistband, along the lines of Kaner's hipbones.

"Because you're a slacker?" Kaner says.

Jonny nips his ear and slides both hands inside to curl around Kaner's cock.

"Oh my god," Kaner gasps.

"Kaner," Jonny says low, fingers meshed, thumbs rubbing too dry, too fast along the head of Kaner's cock, "get the goddamn lube."

Kaner's not sure how he gets the willpower to pull Jonny's hands away from him, but he does, and he almost yanks the bedside stand's drawer entirely out. He leaves it hanging open and crooked in favor of shoving Jonny onto the bed and shucking his boxers as quickly as possible.

"Kaner," Jonny says again. He props himself up on his elbows and Kaner shakes his head.

"Flip over."

He rolls his eyes as he moves, but Jonny does move, turning over onto hands and knees, and Kaner does have a plan, okay, it's just... not a plan that prevents him from taking a minute to _look_. It's mid-season, far enough in that Jonny's hit his stride, not far enough for him to be showing signs of fatigue. The muscles in his forearms are taut, corded, supporting him on clenched fingers. Jonny has his head low, his legs spread, his back loosely arched, and fuck. Kaner still can't believe he gets to see this.

"Kaner," Jonny grunts. "Hurry up."

"You're ruining the atmosphere."

"There's not gonna be any atmosphere if you don't hurry. Up."

"That doesn't even make sense," Kaner grumbles, but he's already reaching for a pillow. Jonny barely has time to look down in bewilderment at the pillow Kaner fits beneath his ribs before Kaner's behind him, planting both hands on Jonny's ass. He shoves, and Jonny tips forward absolutely gracelessly, face-planting into the mattress.

"I don't-" Jonny starts, muffled in the sheets, then Kaner flicks open the lube. He goes silent.

"Yeah," Kaner says, "that's what I thought."

He has fingered Jonny before. Really, he has. He's just never done it so sober and awake in such a well-lit room with Jonny lying on a bed, waiting for him to do it. So it's not like the clutch of Jonny's ass around his finger is unfamiliar, but the way he can see Jonny's back tense, his shoulder blades standing out in stark relief against the softer slopes of toned muscle below them, is. Kaner hooks his finger a little; Jonny hisses, and his shoulder blades arc up like a cat's. With his free hand, Kaner reaches up to pet down Jonny's back, lets his grasp splay wide to feel as much as he can. He twists his finger.

"Fuck, _Kaner_ ," Jonny groans.

"Yeah? Good?" Kaner pulls out almost all the way and lets his middle finger press forward too, rippling the tips together and _in_. "Tell me it's good."

Jonny doesn't say anything, just rocks beneath him, around him, and Kaner jabs his lube-slick fingers in to the hilt and then stops moving entirely. Jonny growls, "What the fuck?"

"I said, 'Tell me it's good.'"

"For fuck's sake, Kaner."

"C'mon, _Captain_ ," Kaner says, low and slow, almost slurred, mouthed against the curve of Jonny's ass, "tell me how I should be playing."

"Oh fuck," Jonny groans. "That's... oh my god."

Kaner grins and crooks his fingers ever so slightly. "Yeah?"

"It's good," Jonny pants. "Fuck, Kaner, it's so good, you're so good, so so good."

That's enough to get Kaner moving again, curling his fingers and drawing them out until they catch on the rim, then straightening out to pull free and immediately plunging back in deep. Beneath him, Jonny mewls. Carefully, Kaner brings his body up along Jonny's, still playing inside him, but stretched half on top of his back. He says quiet enough to make Jonny strain, "One more?"

"Fuck off, Kaner," Jonny chokes. "I don't need more prep."

"It's called foreplay," Kaner says, and he twists his ring finger in too.

Jonny loses his words after that, and Kaner loves it. For all the bitching he does about Kaner's motormouth, Jonny does his fair share of talking. There's always something that needs correction or praise or just acknowledgment. But this... this is the one thing Kaner's found that can leave him speechless. Watching Jonny roll beneath him, hot everywhere they're in contact, mindless with the sensation - it's the biggest turn-on Kaner's ever experienced.

He pushes it for a few more minutes, lets Jonny ride his fingers as much as he fucks him with them, but then Jonny's voice starts going looser and lower, and fuck no, he can't come like this. Unless...

"Hey Jonny," Kaner breathes. There's no answer. "Jonny," he tries again, a little louder, and this time Jonny flicks his gaze back over his shoulder to meet Kaner's eyes. "Can you go twice tonight?"

"Jesus, Pat," Jonny groans, and his hips stutter in their swivel.

"Seriously."

"I. Ugh." The back of Jonny's shoulders have gone all mottled red, part from exertion and probably part from embarrassment, and they shudder as Jonny nods.

"Awesome." Then there's no holding back. Kaner slides back down Jonny's body to kneel between his knees, twists his hand so that his palm cups down Jonny's ass, towards his thick thighs, and goes to town. All it takes is a few beckons, deft, sure curls of his fingertips, and Jonny's shaking under him, swearing and coming between his stomach and the pillow.

Kaner pulls out and slaps him on the thigh with slippery fingers. "Hey. Still with me?"

Jonny moans, and Kaner grabs his ass, firm with both hands, and spreads him open. He hears Jonny murmur, " _Patrick_ ," and it just spurs him to keep holding, keep watching Jonny clench around nothing. He grins.

"I could eat you out right now, see if I can get you to come _three_ times in one go. You wouldn't even have the energy to stop me."

The muscles against his palms go tight, and Kaner just grins even bigger.

"Not tonight, man, don't worry. I am gonna fuck you, though."

"Do it," Jonny spits.

It's easy for Kaner to find the condoms - Jonny's a fucking mess, but Kaner spotted a strip peeking out from beneath the nightstand when they stumbled in. Sure enough, when he flails down blindly, his hand hits foil. It's less easy to actually get one on, though. Kaner has amazing hands, to be sure, but he also has Jonathan Toews, naked, post-orgasmic, and literally begging to be fucked, in front of him. Kaner's not made of stone.

Well, part of him feels like it might be.

"Fucking hell, Jonny," Kaner grits out as he rolls the condom down, "I wish you could see what you look like right now."

Jonny lifts his head up enough to glare at him. "No sex tapes."

"Didn't say that! I was thinking, like, a mirror. A big one, right over the bed. Then I could get you to ride me and all you'd have to do is look up."

"Oh my god."

"Or you could fuck me, me on my back like you like, and I could watch your ass in the mirror. That would rock."

"Or," Jonny grunts, "if you ever want to get laid again, you could get up here right now and _get on with it_."

Kaner grins and chirps, "I'm voting 'all of the above', baby," but he clambers back up between Jonny's spread legs as quick as he can. Jonny hasn't budged from his spot laid-flat on the bed, pillow wedged to lift his hips, so Kaner leans low to bring himself flush and slides one hand along Jonny's ass. "You still all opened up for me?"

Jonny mutters something, and Kaner blinks. "What?"

"I said," Jonny says, voice tight, "'You should see for yourself.'"

"Oh fuck. That's. Yeah, I'll do that." Sure enough, when Kaner prods at him tentatively, two of his fingers slip right in to the second knuckle with only a little pressure. "Jesus, Jonny," Kaner moans, "you really do want this, huh?"

Jonny moans, " _Pat_ ," in answer and cants his ass a little higher. Kaner will take that as a yes.

"Okay," Kaner says, and he bites his lip as he lines his cock up. "Tell me if it's too much."

He expects Jonny to snort and say, "You're not that big, Peekaboo," but he doesn't; he just nods shakily, and fuck if that isn't the hottest thing to happen all night.

"Okay," Kaner breathes again, and he pushes forward. Once he's in an inch or so, he lets go of his cock and braces himself, slumping down on Jonny as slowly and nicely as he can. His knees slip wide, pressing against the inside of Jonny's sweat-tacky thighs, and his hands are sliding on the sheets to catch under Jonny's armpits, and his cock is pressing deeper and deeper until his hips are cushioned on the firm arc of Jonny's ass, and it's all pretty much the greatest. He drops his forehead onto Jonny's back, slides his nose along the dip where traps meet over spine, and says, " _Fuck_."

"Yeah," Jonny exhales.

"Don't worry," Kaner pants, "I got this. Just. Just in a minute."

Once he's sure he's not going to shoot early or flat-out die from too much _awesome_ , Kaner rolls his hips down. Jonny sinks beneath him, stuck between the pillow and Kaner, no other option than to let Kaner's cock in impossibly deeper. Kaner doesn't even pull out all the way - he just lifts his weight up enough to be resting as opposed to actively driving, and then he rolls again, down through his stomach to his hips to his thighs, grinding against and into Jonny in waves. He's not anywhere near tall enough to reach Jonny's ear, more or less his mouth; instead he opens his mouth on the skin of Jonny's back and just sucks. That wrings a throttled moan out of Jonny, so he does it again, drifting to lick at the line of his spine, bite at the curve of his shoulder blade.

Jonny shifts to one side, not enough to knock Kaner off, but enough to disrupt his rhythm. Kaner's about to ask him what he's doing when Jonny slips his left arm under Kaner's, brings Kaner's hand up to rest next to his head, and kisses tentatively at the sensitive skin of his inner wrist. It half-tickles and half-blows his fucking mind. There's a whine creeping out from high in his throat, Kaner just knows it, and he definitely doesn't want to listen to that embarrassing crap, so he starts thrusting again and focuses on nothing but the hot, strong grip of Jonny's ass around him and the hot, strong pulse of Jonny's tongue against his wrist.

It's not much longer before Kaner's teetering, and he blows a short breath up towards Jonny's ear and says, "Are you gonna?"

Jonny nods frantically, and then shifts to the other side, grabbing Kaner's right wrist. He pants, "Yeah, just," and clumsily presses Kaner's hand down towards his stomach. Kaner can take a hint - he wriggles his hand between skin and comforter, reaching for Jonny's cock. Only, when he's sliding his hand down from Jonny's ribs towards his navel, he hits something wet and _oh fuck that's Jonny come because Jonny already came once for him_ and that's it. Kaner drives himself in deep, and, clutching tightly at the sticky span of Jonny's abs, he comes.

"Shit, Jonny, I'm so sorry," he gasps as soon as he can manage it. "Do you want me to-"

"Hang on," Jonny says. "Pull out."

Kaner does as he says on pure instinct, and he's wincing and bracing himself to maybe be kicked out, but Jonny turns over, propping his hips back up on the come-slick pillow, and says, "Okay, go."

"Go?"

"Put it back in, you dumbass," he grits. Kaner scrambles to comply. It's still hot and tight and everything great that it was before, but now there's also a filled condom cooling on him and all the great things are almost too great to be... well... great. He stares down at Jonny, at a loss.

Jonny rolls his eyes, wraps Kaner's hand around his cock, and cranes up to drag Kaner down into a kiss.

Okay, this? This, Kaner can do.

Jonny doesn't seem to need full-on fucking, so Kaner just rocks against him, focuses less on strokes and more on finesse, matches the slide of his thumb against the head of Jonny's cock with the slide of his tongue over Jonny's lower lip. Jonny nips him and sighs, "Patrick, I'm gonna."

"Yeah, man, I got you," Kaner says softly. "Do it."

Jonny does, curling up towards Kaner, gripping his upper arms tight and stealing the air right out of his mouth.

"Jonny," Kaner says, lips still pressed against tingling lips. "Dude, Jonny, that was amazing."

Jonny smiles. "Yeah, you weren't too bad."

"Shut up," Kaner laughs, and he smears Jonny's own come across Jonny's chest in retaliation.

"You fucker!" Jonny yelps, digging one heel into the small of Kaner's back. It hurts, and it's pushing him off balance, so Kaner laughs, "Oops!" and lets himself fall against Jonny's chest - Jonny's come-covered chest. Ugh. He'd complain (even though he knows that every bit of this is his own fault), but Jonny's kissing him again, and that's a pretty good distraction.

\--------

He wakes up in Jonny's bed the next morning. It's not the first time that's happened either, but it feels different. It feels new.

Jonny's still dead to the world, rolled half on his side, half on his stomach, facing away from Patrick. It's the perfect view to see the bruises on his back - mouth-shaped, fresh, curving along both shoulder blades like tucked up wings. Kaner holds his breath without even realizing it.

Bruises are the sort of thing he sees every day. It's hard to be a hockey player and not always have some unexplained blotch of purple marring you. These aren't unexplained, though. Really, they're _super_ explained. Kaner gets his hand within an inch of Jonny's back before he hesitates, pulls back. He leans in with his head instead and kisses the darkest mark, nestled low, just above bone. Beneath him, Jonny stirs. He kisses again, lets his mouth fall open, and trails wetness up and up until he's running his teeth gentle along Jonny's neck.

Without opening his eyes, and heavy, nearly unintelligible with the remnants of sleep, Jonny sighs, " _Patrick._ "

That. That's new too.

"Jonny," Kaner says back, shaking him just a little, rolling him over onto his back. "Jonny, hey. You awake?"

Jonny sighs again. "Mmm."

"You said my name."

At that Jonny opens his eyes, and he meets Kaner's gaze without flinching. "Yeah."

"You said _my_ name."

Jonny frowns. "Who else's name would I say?"

"I don't know!" Kaner trips out. "Someone's, some chick's or something, but not..."

They stare at each other for another few moments, utterly still, then Jonny lifts himself up on one elbow. "Patrick."

Kaner licks his lips. "Jonny."

Jonny smiles. "Patrick. Come here."

He does, and Jonny kisses him, and it's something new once again, but Kaner doesn't think it'll feel new for very much longer. He can't wait.


End file.
